Call Him Yuurichka
by livixbobbiex
Summary: Yuuri wakes up in the arms of Viktor, who happens to be muttering a certain pet name in his sleep. Smuttiness ensues. (contains blow jobs, lots of Russian, and cute morning sex)


The faintest glimpse of sunlight tapped on the back of Katsuki Yuuri's eyelids, pleading for them to be pried open. Despite the early time, Yuuri managed to smile faintly to himself. Waking early had become habit ever since he moved to Detroit at the tender age of eighteen; a habit he'd only just gotten back into now Viktor was his coach and insisted he push his body to its very limits.

Viktor Nikiforov was his coach. Though it had been months since he arrived, naked in the onsen, the thought still made Yuuri's heart flutter in his chest so fast he thought it might float away, not unlike the cherry blossoms that bloom outside his bedroom window. However, the thought also made his stomach contort into knots. Why did the figure skating legend think that _Yuuri_ was worth his time?

The thoughts left his mind as Yuuri remembered the warm body asleep next to him. That earnt the biggest smile of all. Not long ago Yuuri would have been freaking out, but Viktor's unusual physical closeness had become second nature. Ever since Yuuri had finally agreed to their 'slumber party', he was pretty sure he'd only seen Viktor go into his designated room to retrieve one of his numerous possessions. Even Makkachin's dog bed was in Yuuri's room now!

Yuuri's breath hitched as Viktor's unconscious fingers trailed down his hip, but he relaxed into the affectionate touch a few moments later. He shifted his position, turning to face the beautiful man who was still deep in sleep beside him. Yuuri had no idea how any one person could get so lucky. Feeling slightly brazen, he reached over and stroked his fingers over the back of Viktor's exposed hand. His other hand was draped over Yuuri's waist, and he didn't have the heart to move it.

Still very much asleep, Viktor's nose twitched. He began to mutter something incomprehensible masked with his Russian accent, voice thick from sleep. It seemed to be in time with his gentle heartbeat, tempting Yuuri to listen closer.

"Yuurichka," the Russian murmured.

The word seemed familiar in Yuuri's memory. He recognised the element of his own name at the start, and so figured it must have been one of Viktor's pet names. He had many pet names. Лучик (ray of light), Котенок (kitten, Yuuri thought this was perhaps more suited to the other Yuri), Пряничек (ginger bread man, apparently), Слоненок (little elephant… Yuuri was confused by that one). A quick google translate session had shown Yuuri that his coach was incredibly inventive with his terms of endearment, but he'd never heard Yuurichka before.

Yuuri felt something wet tickle his hand. Though he hated to take his eyes off of Viktor, he knew he'd have to eventually. He glimpsed Makkachin sitting patiently on the bedroom floor, not enough room for him on Yuuri's single bed, wagging his tail in earnest. Yuuri sighed, he'd have to get up to let the dog out. He reached down to pet the poodle's fluffy head before beginning to shift his weight and carefully peel Viktor's hand away from him.

Naturally, this only resulted in Viktor pulling him even tighter to his embrace until they were practically spooning, the older man's bare chest flush against Yuuri's back. The action caused the heat to rush to Yuuri's face, but he soon found himself submitting and relaxing into the new position. He supposed Makkachin could wait just a little while longer…

"Don't leave, my sweet Yuurichka!" Viktor practically shouted directly into Yuuri's ear, startling the skater. His voice had a nervous and frantic edge to it, like he was in the midst of a nightmare.

Still in his firm grip, Yuuri reached back and shook the man as best he could. It wasn't long before his breathing slowed and his muscles unwound from their death vice around Yuuri's hips.

"I'm right here, Viktor," Yuuri whispered and gripped his hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

Viktor stilled fully before burying his head in Yuuri's shoulder. "I was in St Petersburg again, with you, but then I couldn't find you anywhere."

Yuuri didn't know what to reply to that, so instead he elected to squeeze Viktor's hand even harder, entwining their fingers. He sighed, his breath still forming a small cloud as he let it out despite the warm body pressed up against him. They should really think about getting up; with the Grand Prix finals so soon Yuuri should be spending every waking moment on the ice. But it just seemed so impossible to let go.

Viktor made the decision on his own and rolled over to his back, letting Yuuri go from his in favour of staring at the ceiling. Their hands were still connected, however. Though Yuuri said nothing, Viktor turned his head over to look the other man in the eye.

"I'm sorry; доброе утро." He raised their joint hands to his lips and pecked them chastely.

"Good morning," Yuuri said warmly in their shared language of English. He gulped, wondering how bold he could be. "I get bad dreams too sometimes," he admitted.

"What about?" Viktor's voice wasn't as challenging and suggestive as it normally was, no, this time it was raw and quiet. Yuuri could even use the word 'vulnerable' for it.

He swallowed. "Well," Yuuri began, "I relived my last season a lot. It was like I was feeling every bruise, every humiliation, over and over again. I also dreamed that I got so nervous I threw up. Or that I was suddenly naked on the rink," he paused, blushing. "Normal things."

Viktor chuckled and placed a kiss on the top of his head. "That last one sounded like a great dream."

The moment was over and the heat full on rose to Yuuri's cheeks. "Viktor!" he hissed.

"What?" The older man shifted again until he was practically leaning over Yuuri. "Half the world would be greatly pleased to see that. Do you pay no attention to social media?"

Yuuri reminded himself to keep calm. He was calm, cool, and collected. He was a twenty three year old man. He would not be intimidated by Viktor Nikiforov's charms.

"No," he stammered. _Damn it!_ "N-not really."

"Hmmm," Viktor flashed his trade mark cocky smirk, "they talk about you a lot there, Yuuri." His hand began to wander to the bottom of Yuuri's sleep shirt, tugging on the end. "You have you fair share of fangirls." He leaned down even closer, if that was possible, his lips falling close to Yuuri's ear. "They all want you so bad, Моё золотце."

"V-Viktor!" Yuuri shuddered as his breath ghosted across his cold skin.

Above him, Viktor grinned, retracting his closeness in favour of gazing down at Yuuri's face. "And why can't they have you, Любимая моя?"

Yuuri squirmed, trapped by Viktor's weight and position. "Viktor!" he practically whined.

A mischievous glint appeared in Viktor's eye. "I need to hear you say it." He lifted Yuuri's hand and gently brought it to his lips again, the gesture becoming common place since Yuuri had last returned from a competition.

Throwing caution to the wind, Yuuri met his eyes and said "because I'm all yours."

The only words Yuuri could possibly use to describe the expression on Viktor's face were 'pure joy'. Wasting no time, Viktor immediately crashed his mouth into Yuuri's so violently that had it been anybody else, it would have been unpleasant. Who was he kidding? There could never be anybody else for him, not when he'd come so high to touch heaven, even if he knew the elation could only ever be brief.

Viktor pulled back after the brief kiss, seemingly content to just look at Yuuri.

Feeling confidence burst through him all of a sudden, Yuuri opened his mouth. "Viktor, what were you calling be before?"

"Huh?" the man above him looked confused.

"When you were asleep," Yuuri managed to get out, "you were saying my name. But it wasn't my name exactly. I think you were calling it like Yuurichka," he tried his best to pronounce the Russian, failing quite badly.

"Oh!" Viktor smiled softly. "It's just a Russian thing, sometimes we add a few letters onto the end of a name."

"I liked it," Yuuri admitted. He swallowed. "A lot."

Viktor practically purred, slinging his leg over Yuuri's hip so he was straddling him. "My hot little Yuurichka," he said, "there are a million things I could do to you and I don't know where to start."

And damn if Yuuri didn't actually _squeak_ -

Viktor's lips enveloped his own without warning, muffling any sound the younger man might make. This was different from the few kisses they'd shared before; deeper, intense, saying something to the other that just couldn't be put into words. Yuuri didn't have the strength in him to resist when Viktor's tongue pressed up against his lips, yielding his mouth to allow him entry. Yuuri wanted it deeper and deeper, filling him to his core. He wanted to float in it, drown under Viktor Nikiforov's touch. He wanted it to take him over completely.

Perhaps he should have protested when Viktor's hands began to wander again, the same position as before, but instead falling underneath Yuuri's shirt completely. His hands felt like fire, burning hot against his stomach, causing Yuuri to shake just from the anticipation of it all. His inhibitions melted away and Yuuri shifted, trying to encourage Viktor to be done with it and just take the shirt off for good. Viktor responded eagerly, tugging the shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor.

Except the shirt didn't land on the floor. Instead, it fell perfectly on top of Makkachin's head, who had been patiently sitting at the foot of the bed the entire time. Though he was a dog, Yuuri covered his face and wanted to shrink away from embarrassment.

Viktor, on his part, didn't seem to care all that much, and simply left the bed without saying a word. In his absence, a sudden chill took over Yuuri, freezing him to the bone.

"C'mon boy," Viktor said. In the early morning sunlight his abdominal muscles glistened, especially with the thin layer of sweat that had built up. It was impossible for Yuuri not to stare at him with utter desire. The man stood in front of him was a work of art. Yuuri's eyes trailed down, finding that Viktor's tight underwear and the identifiable tent within them left nothing to the imagination. Of course, Yuuri had seen Viktor naked _countless_ times, but never quite like this.

As Viktor lead Makkachin from the room into the hallway, Yuuri was left completely alone. It was about the time for his brain to come up with some deep, meaningful thoughts about what had just happened to him, but that was not the case. Instead, his mind was screaming something like: _holy shit holy shit what did that just happen?_ A quieter part of his brain also said ' _take me_ _now Viktor'_ , but Yuuri elected to ignore that for now. He focused on catching his breath, eyes trained on the ceiling in an effort to diminish his arousal. In a final attempt, Yuuri concentrated on squeezing them shut.

Unwittingly, this had given Viktor the perfect opportunity to sneak back in and press their bodies back together without Yuuri's knowledge. He was surprised as six feet of Russian skating legend suddenly filled his arms, apparently determined to pick up from exactly where they left off. His mouth and teeth were _everywhere_ ; marking, touching, tasting… It was too much. The sound that escaped Yuuri's lips wasn't even human as Viktor ground his still clothed groin into Yuuri's without warning, making him writhe and fist his hands in the sheets with sheer pleasure.

"Viktor!" Yuuri cried out loud enough to wake the entire population of Hasetsu.

This made the man above him pause in his actions. "Yuuri, has anybody ever seen you like this before?"

Yuuri could only manage to shake his head.

Viktor retracted from his position, sitting up to look Yuuri from head to toe, taking his form in completely. "Yuurichka," he paused to smirk as Yuuri visibly shuddered at the use of the pet name. "Will you let me make you feel good Yuuri?" He brought out the damned puppy dog eyes and all.

In response, Yuuri found that he could only supply a high pitched moan.

Viktor rested his hand on the outline of Yuuri's cock, very obvious through his thin boxers. "You're going to have to give me a better answer than that."

This was _torture_. Yuuri's legs began to shake of their own accord as Viktor just barely traced his length through the material. "Yes! Yes! Viktor _please_ ," Yuuri finally moaned, completely giving himself up.

The way Viktor looked at him then, like he wanted to devour him, was somewhat reminiscent of the way Yuuri might look at katsudon and okay this really wasn't the best time to think of pork cutlet bowls. Viktor dove down immediately, wrapping his mouth around the head of Yuuri's unexposed cock, licking around it as if he were trying memorise its exact shape. Yuuri's mind blanched out into pure, white heat.

And then Viktor immediately pulled off, almost like he was trying to tease Yuuri with a good thing and the immediately taking it away again.

"Patience, моя любовь, let me worship you."

It was all Yuuri could do to nod and grip the sheets as tight as possible as Viktor pressed a laughably chaste kiss directly on his navel. He groaned as the sweet kisses continued down his stomach, each making him shudder more than the last. Yuuri knew he was being teased, that Viktor was testing him in his own way, but he couldn't bring himself to stop it. It was only when Viktor licked a perfect trail from his stomach down to the waistband of his now frustratingly tight boxers that Yuuri gave a full on yelp of Viktor's name.

In response, Viktor went back to the task with vigour, making sure to taste every inch of Yuuri's trembling abdomen. Yuuri's head fell back into the pillows as Viktor began to suck and bite, leaving little marks and bruises claiming Yuuri as his and his alone. The gesture didn't bother him in the slightest, it made him crave more and more.

"You have such angular hips, Yuuri," Viktor decided to comment. "Now you're training regularly they're remarkable."

The praise spurned Yuuri's desire even more, if that was physically possible. He considered saying 'thank you', but all that he could produce were a series of lewd noises, gasps, and curses. Yuuri knew in that moment that he needed Viktor completely, he needed to be filled with his love.

As if Viktor could read his mind, he stopped the attack on Yuuri's hip bones, scraping his teeth around the very top of his boxes. Apparently having decided that enough was enough, Viktor hooked the waistband in his teeth and dragged the garments down Yuuri's thighs, finally freeing his aching cock. Even the icy breeze wasn't a deterrent, and Yuuri was too far gone to be embarrassed about being this exposed in front of his child hood idol.

The man paused. "Are you sure?"

Something within Yuuri snapped completely. "I need your mouth on me _right now_!"

Slightly taken aback, Viktor complied with the request, leaning down to press a kiss on the leaking appendage.

Yuuri's back arched off the bed. "More! I need more!"

Without warning, Viktor engulfed the majority of his length in one fatal swoop which had Yuuri seeing stars. He made sure to lick it from base to tip a few times, before bobbing his head up and down at a brutal pace. For where his mouth wasn't able to take Yuuri in, Viktor's hand made up the space, jerking his cock in unison.

It was too much. "Fuck! Viktor! It's so good!"

Yuuri couldn't stand it anymore. His hands left the sheets and instinctively wound their way into Viktor's hair, yet somehow he found the sense not to tug at it or push down.

Viktor pulled off with a slurp. "Pull my hair if you want," he rasped, and immediately swallowed him down again.

Yuuri did just that, tugging and pulling at the silver locks like his life depended on it. He lost all sense of being, his hips thrusting up naturally, wanting to be completely surrounded by everything that Viktor was.

"I'm… I'm gonna… VIKTOR!" Yuuri screamed, his release rushing upon him all at once. All he was aware of was Viktor's sinful mouth, his teeth and tongue working him through his orgasm in perfection. He swallowed it all like a champion, only pulling off when Yuuri tapped his head to signify that the stimulation was just too much.

"Yuuri," Viktor gasped lovingly, watching Yuuri's now weak form intently.

Yuuri immediately sprung back to life as he remembered himself. "What about you?" He managed, gesturing Viktor's own painful erection.

He looked somewhat shocked. "Don't worry about me, мой принц"

"No!" Yuuri immediately got up so they were both kneeling on the bed in front of each other. "I-I want to."

Now it was Viktor's turn to gasp as Yuuri finally released his cock from its tight confines. He managed to look Viktor in the eye as his hand wrapped itself around that delicious cock, working it as he would his own. After everything it only took a few pumps for Viktor to reach his own orgasm, hot and heavy against Yuuri's hand.

They both collapsed onto the bed, with no real regard to the mess. Viktor attempted to land a kiss on Yuuri's mouth.

"D-don't," Yuuri stammered, back to his usual awkward self.

"Why not?" Viktor pouted. "You taste вкусно!"

"Viktor!"

The man beside him winked and then left the bed, fetching a wet towel to give to Yuuri. "I expect you at the Ice Castle in at least thirty minutes to resume your training. Don't even think about being late."

With that, Viktor was gone, immediately switching from lover to coach. Yuuri groaned and wondered to himself; what the hell had he gotten himself into?


End file.
